Part 23 (1/2)
”If this--ah!--young gentleman struck you, Mistah Raymon', sah, there can be but one termination of the affaiah. He will have to meet you, sah, on the field, or humbly apologize at once.”
”That's right!” bl.u.s.tered the young man, fiercely. ”I'll have his life, or an instant apology!”
Frank smiled as if he were quite amused.
”As I happen to feel that I am the one to whom an apology is due, you will have to be satisfied with taking my life,” he said.
The youth with the dark face drew out a handsome card case, from which he extracted an engraved card, which he haughtily handed to Frank, who accepted it, and read aloud:
”'Mr. Rolf Raymond.' A very pretty name. Allow me; my card, Mr. Raymond.
I am stopping at the St. Charles Hotel. You will be able to find me without difficulty.”
”Rest a.s.sured that a friend of mine will call on you without delay, Mr.
Merriwell,” stiffly said Raymond, thrusting Frank's card into his pocket.
Professor Scotch had forced his way through the crowd in time to catch the drift of this, and the full significance of it dawned upon him, filling him with amazement and horror.
”This will not do--it will never do!” he spluttered. ”Dueling is a thing of the past; there is a law for it! I will not have it! Frank, you hot-headed young rascal, what do you mean by getting into such a sc.r.a.pe?”
”Keep cool, professor,” said the boy, calmly. ”If this young gentleman insists on forcing me into a duel, I cannot take water--I must give him satisfaction.”
”I tell you I won't have it!” roared the little man, in his big, hoa.r.s.e voice, his face getting very red. ”I am your guardian. You are a minor, and I forbid you to fight a duel.”
”If Mistah Merriwell will apologize, it is possible that, considering his age, sah, Mistah Raymon' will not press this mattah,” smoothly said the man with the bristling mustache.
”What has he to apologize for?” asked Scotch.
”He struck Mistah Raymon', sah.”
”Did you do that, Frank?”
”Yes; but he struck me first.”
”He did, eh?” roared the professor, getting very red in the face. ”Well, I don't think you'll apologize, Frank, and you're not going to fight.
You're a boy; let him take a man. If he wants to fight anybody, I'm just his hairpin, and I'll agree to do him up with any kind of a weapon from a broad-ax to a bologna sausage!”
CHAPTER XV.
MYSTERY OF THE FLOWER QUEEN.
Frank looked at Professor Scotch in amazement, for he had never known the little man to use such language or show such spirit in the face of actual danger.
”I wonder if the professor has been drinking, and, if so, where he got his drinks?” was the thought that flashed through Frank's mind.
”Mistah Raymon', sah, has no quarrel with you, sah,” said the individual with the bristling mustache. ”If there is to be any further trouble, sah, I will attend to your case.”
”You? Who are you?”
”I, sah, am Colonel La Salle Vallier, the ver' particular friend of Mistah Raymon'. If yo' say so, we will exchange cards, sah.”